EIGHTEEN!
by later2nite
Summary: Justin's 18th birthday - what really happened after the end of Episode 114?


EIGHTEEN!

"You're losing your shirt!" Brian deftly bent to retrieve the silky garment from Babylon's dance floor almost as deftly as he'd unbuttoned it moments earlier and nudged it from Justin's youthful frame.

"And you almost lost yours," Justin laughed while they danced, deliriously happy about craftily snuffing out the Kip Thomas minefield before it blew up in Brian's face. "Those vile sexual harassment lawsuits in the workplace tend to jeopardize even the most secure positions."

"Yeah, I still have no idea why he dropped the suit."

Grinning from ear to ear, Justin shrugged his bare shoulders and kept dancing. "It's a mystery!"

Brian just couldn't seem to keep his palms from gliding over those glorious shoulders, his smile colliding with his dimples. "I guess I'll just have to be more careful who I fuck," he tossed off playfully, leaning forward to kiss his boy.

"He's always coming on to you, acting like he likes you. All he really cares about is getting laid," Justin had schemed to Kip, conveniently leaving out the part about his loving every minute of it, egging Brian on whenever he could.

"Lucky for you," he beamed slyly as he danced with Brian, "I turn eighteen tomorrow!"

. . .

The important milestone in Justin's life was marked quietly the following evening at a nice restaurant with his mom and sister, frequent laughter abounding and the promise to do it again soon at the top of their list.

"How about some ice cream, Molly?" Jennifer asked when the waiter came around with dessert menus. "Justin, do you want to share some of that chocolate cake we like so much?"

He wanted it, but he wanted to be with someone else more. "Let's have it next time, okay?"

Waving good-bye when they dropped him off at Debbie's, he stayed just long enough to grab his jacket before he was out the door again, his mom's car having barely turned the corner.

"I'm legal," Justin announced breathlessly when Brian pushed the door to his loft open fifteen minutes later. (It was normally about a thirty minute walk.)

Briefly wondering if legal was half as good as illegal, Brian opened the door wider, noting that nice blue dress shirts render beautiful azure eyes even more outstanding. "Legal, huh?" he mocked, is own leering eyes escorting the birthday boy in. Grabbing Justin's arm before he got too far away, Brian was inundated with subliminal messages of contentment and belonging when they kissed. Who was that nameless, faceless trick he'd unceremoniously shown out an hour earlier? Why did Justin feel so good enclosed within his arms?

Never making it off the sofa, Justin fussed over his idol, drawing him inextricably further into his web. Smack dab in it was the only place Brian wanted to be.

"Aahh," he breathed softly as he sat with his legs sprawled apart, his boy kneeling on the floor between them. Eyes closed and fingers twisting through Justin's hair, he had to hand it to the kid. A few well-defined pointers on their first night together, and he'd acquired a veritable expert in cock sucking. Brian felt the tightness in his balls course through his body.

Swallowing what felt like gallons of come, Justin hungrily licked his lips, his own eager hard-on oozing milky white drops. Brian pulled him up onto the sofa, laying him down on his back.

"Is this for me?" Brian folded his lips together endearingly, closing his fist around Justin's pulsing shaft. He pushed his tongue into his mouth, tasting himself inside. Steadily jerking him, Brian rubbed the beading moisture in circles around the bright pink head of his dick.

Sucking on Brian's tongue, Justin writhed beneath him, coming all over his hand in a matter of minutes. "Fuck me," he moaned, watching as Brian licked his hand clean. Turning onto his stomach, he parted his legs, the want emanating from his body impossible to contain. Raising his ass to meet Brian's lubed fingers, his breath quickened when he started to open him up. "God, Brian! NOW!" The words flew out of Justin's mouth uncontrollably.

Smiling to himself, Brian lined the head of his cock up with Justin's open hole. Aggressive Justin...it made him hard. Well, harder, he thought, slowly gliding in all the way and then easing back out, inch by inch, until he couldn't take it any longer. Justin's ass squeezing tightly around his cock coaxed him into a rhythm that had him gasping and ready to shoot.

"Christ!" Brian groaned, pumping his hips back and forth rapidly. His balls slapped onto Justin's perfectly round ass cheeks as he exploded into the condom, shuddering through his orgasm.

"Happy Birthday, Sunshine," he whispered into Justin's ear as soon as his heartbeat returned to a somewhat regular rate.

"I know I left marshmallows in here somewhere," Justin mumbled, groping around in the back of Brian's kitchen cabinet. "Oh, good. Here they are." He could always be counted on to pull together a midnight snack after a healthy workout.

"I thought you had a big dinner with your parents," Brian called out, still lying on the sofa. All he really wanted was a cigarette.

"It was just my mom and Molly. My dad still won't talk to me." Justin brought tall mugs of hot cocoa from the kitchen. Miniature marshmallows swam in each one. "And it was hours ago. Aren't you famished?"

Sitting cross-legged, they faced each other on the sofa, imbibing the steaming chocolate. Well, Justin did, anyway.

Brian mostly looked at his. "At least your dad has the country club manners to avoid you altogether," he said reassuringly. "Whenever mine talks to me, it's to express his deep regret over my birth or to hit me up for a loan."

"Jesus," Justin sighed, shaking his head dolefully. "I don't know what's worse: being rejected because you like dick, or knowing your father wishes you'd never been born," he lamented, slurping the last of his hot cocoa.

Brian picked up his cigarettes from the coffee table, lighting two. He actively rationed alcohol into Justin's teenaged hands on an as-needed basis, yet various smoking materials failed to arouse his inner cop. "I'd say we're tied in the asshole father department," he quipped, handing one to Justin. "But your mother's prettier than mine. She doesn't drink, does she?"

"Huh?" Justin's mouth formed a circle, exhaling three wispy smoke rings into the air.

Brian glanced at the time. "Shit! You better get back to Deb's. I'll never get her off my ass for keeping you out this late on a school night!"

"I'm eighteen now, Brian, or have you forgotten already? What can she do?"

"You haven't known Debbie very long, have you?" Brian mashed out his cigarette, looking around for his clothes. "Come on. I'll drive you back."

. . .

"You better go in," were the words that spilled from Brian's lips, Justin lingering inside his jeep as it idled out in front of Deb's house, yet his richly expressive light brown eyes - capable of moving mountains with their power of suggestion - seemed to state quite the opposite.

"I'll come over again tomorrow night," Justin murmured seductively.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Brian whispered, plunging his tongue down Justin's throat. No matter how many times his age-police conscience had weighed in, urging him to cut the boy loose, there was no denying some cosmic connection kept drawing them back together.

Justin clung to Brian tighter than any barnacle known to man, passionately kissing him the way he liked to be kissed. "You love it!" he exclaimed when they finally came up for air.

The End


End file.
